s. Murphy's 
^appointment 




Riant Studio 
Jersey City, N. J. 



RIANT GUILD 

Promoters 
Newark and Baldwin Avenues 

Jersey City, N. J. 



Mrs. Murphy's 
Disappointment 



COMEDY 
SKETCH 



By Walter Smith Griffith 



Riant Studio 
Jersey City, N. J. 



<e>. 



*7 <o 



Copyright (1914) by Walter Smith Griffith. 
All rights reserved. 



'MAR 21 1914 



GADDIS BROS., Printers 

304-10 Baldwin Ave 

.Terse v City 

§>C!.D 36431 



Mrs. Murphy's - 
Disappointment. 



Dramatis Persona. 



Will Murphy, just painter; later, con- 
^ tractor. 

Mrs. Murphy (Mame), wife of the 
"conthractor." 

Tony Rocco (barber;, native of Italy. 
Mrs. Rocco (Carmelita), New York- 
er, wife of Tony. 

SCENE I. 

(Courtyard surrounded by tenements; 
two washtubs on a bench ; Mrs. Murphy 
and Mrs. Rocco hard at work washing 
clothes ; Tony Rocco seated on another 
bench, facing them, struming softly on 
a mandolin.) 

Carmelita — Was that your husband 
came home so late this morning - , Mrs. 
Murphy? 

Mame — Xo wonder you heard him; 



15 



he was soused with mixed ale — loaded 
up while playing pinochle over to Cas- 
ey's. 

Tony — Why him no g-etta da pint? 

A Tame — He says it tastes tinny out 
of the can. He likes scoops. 

Lita — Tony, when wil we be ready 
for the sketch ? 

Tony — Stoppa chewa da rag — prac 
da steppa — getta da move ; Bil gotta da 
sketch write. 

.Maine and Lita — All right. (Scamper 
to front of stage and dance to Tony's 
accompaniment.) 

\ (Just as they are finishing dance, 
enter Will Murphy, half soused.) 

Mame (jumping at him) — What are 
you doing home at this hour in the day, 
Will Murphy? 

Will — No more sky painting for 
mine ! I nearly fell off the ladder this 
morning. I don't want to see him yet. 

Mame — See who? 

Will— The devil. 



1G 



Maine — If you'd keep sober you 
wouldn't fall off the ladder. As for the 
devil, you'll see him very soon if you 
don't reform — you'll have the willies. 

Will — I ain't anxious. Say, Mame, I 
knew you were a creamy waltzer, but 
what kind of a whoop-'em-up do you 
call that? 

Lita — That is the dance we do to 
make them take notice. 

Maine — That is your classy point for 
publicity. 

Lita — That gets the rapid news item. 

Tony — Draga da screama from da 
pane. 

Will — Ohl So we take the family 
along. I don't know about your going 
on the stage, Mame. You are too good 
looking. 

Mame — Look here, Will Murphy, if 
you think I am going to have you gad- 
ing around the country drinking scoops 
with those chorus fairies youVe got 
another puzzle solution. 



i; 



Will — The chappies wil be there! Oh, 
you Reno Special. 

Tony — Stoppa da fight. 

Maine — I am going to have a new 
hat and pair of shoes this pay if you 
have to go without anything to eat next 
week. 

Will ( trying to look wise) — All right. 

Maine — And I ought to have a pair 
of stockings (pulls her skirts to her 
knees, showing big rent in her stocking 
just below the knee). Just look at that 
hole. 

Will — The hat and the shoes are all 
right, but the stockings, nit. I'm the 
only one sees the hole, and I aint kick- 
ing. 

Tony — Singa da song (softly com- 
mences refrain). 

Lita — Yes, we want lots of practice. 

( Will sings "No More for Aline.") 



18 



No More for Mine. 

When I get over this horrible feeling, 

Never again! Never again! 
I wonder what's that funny shape a- 
stealing 

Across the walk! Across the walk! 
Great Casey, am I getting the batsies? 
Sure, sure, 1 am, as sure as old hatsies, 
Oh, dear me, what a lot of queer ratsies ; 

Never again! Never again! 

No more for mine ! No more for 
mine ! 

Chorus : 

Fill 'em up again, Mike, fill 'em up, 
Fill 'em up again, Mike, fill 'em up; 
Why afar do I thusly roam ? 
Don't I think Fd better go home? 
Not on your life ! Not on your 
life! 

(Spoken— "Why?") 

My wife says I'm the bane of her 
life ; 
Fill 'em up again, Mike, fill 'em up, 
Fill 'em up again, Mike, fill 'em up! 



1!) 



When I get away from this mixed ale 
reeling. 
Never again ! Never again I 
I wonder how's the sober way for feel- 
ing? 
Look over there ! Look over there ! 
Oh ! great stars, am I getting the willies ? 
No, no, no, you set of old sillies; 
I wonder if those goats are all billies? 
Never again ! Never again I 
No more for mine f No more for 
mine t 

Chorus. 

(Will starts toward alley passage to 
street, startling at every squeak of or- 
chestra. Mrs. M. quietly moves to meet 
him.) 

Will (preparing himself to make a 
quick dash thru the passage) — So long. 
I'm going out for a while. 

Maine (jumping and grabing him) — 
No Casey's for yours. 

(Leads him meekly into the house. 



80 



orchestra playing weding march. Mrs. 
R. seats herself by Tony in real Italian 
wife style. Tony softly plays mandolin. 
Slow curtain.) 

SCENE II. 

( Lawn of Contractor Murphy's 
country seat, Stonecliff Manor, Mrs. 
Murphy walking around ; Will seated. 
Both in swel summer attire.) 

Will — Gee! Just one of Casey's 
scoops would hit me now. Bottle beer! 
Rotten ! 

Mame — Will Murphy, if you want to 
make a beast of yourself, do it as a 
gentleman. Casey's! Pinochle! Scoops! 
The idea ! There is plenty of wine in 
the house. It wil giv you just as dis- 
graceful an appearance as mixed ale. I 
wish you to forget your Mulberry Bend 
origin. 

Will — Mulberry Bend ain't so bad. 
They haven't as much varnish on down 



•21 



there, but there is more sound oak 
underneath. 

Maine (sneeringly) — Some more of 
your Coney Island witticisms. 

Will — Aw! I'm tired of this place, 
any way you look at it. 

Mame — Will Murphy; I feel like giv- 
ing you up ; here you are, rich and 
growing richer, and nothing suits you. 

Will — We have prospered pretty wel 
financially, but I dont see why you in- 
sist on living up in this dreary hole. 

Maine — What is the trouble with it 
N( )\Y, Mr. Murphy? 

Will (airily) — Murphay, if you plaze. 
Wel, Mrs. Murphay, Tony and Lita 
have made just as much off our vaude- 
ville ventures as we have. Tony lias 
his in apartments right where we used 
to live, piling up more money for him. 
We, to please your tony notions, have 
this white elephant to feed. I aint kick- 
ing so much on the joint in the Sum- 
mer time, but in the Winter! 



22 



Maine (angrily) — The whole trouble 
with you is that you can't spend all your 
spare time in Casey's low grogshop. 
The idea of prefering Mulberry Bend 
to Stonecliff Manor! 

Will — It's good enough for Tony and 
Lita, and they are richer than we are. 
Tony comes of better stock than we do. 
His father is an Italian nobleman. 

Maine (sneeringly) — That's what he 
says. Funy he should have been a bar- 
ber if he had so much brains. 

Will — You know what a fine musi- 
cian he is. His music is the rage all 
over the country. 

Maine (with pride) — So are your 
sayings. Don't allow a Wop to get 
more credit than an Irishman. 

Will — Cut it. Here comes — 

( Enter Tony | mandolin case in hand) 
and Carmelita [with baby in arms] 
ski ping.) 

W 'ill — Hello. Tony and Lita. How's 
little Tony? (Lita holds up baby for 



23 



all to see. Mame kisses Lita and baby 
and they draw to one side.) 

Tony — Fina place, Will. 

Will — Fine, but it's too far from the 
Bend. Wine and case goods. Makes 
me sick. 

Tony (with shrug) — Wine vera fine. 

Will — Mixed ale for mine, and they 
can't come too big. 

Mame — Do you feel strong enough 
yet for our new venture, Lita? 

Lita — Strong enough? Us Italians 
dont make any fuss about having chil- 
dren. 

Will (winking) — Nor us Irish when 
we make up our minds. (Aside to 
Tony:) Mame has been five years now 
trying to make up her mind. I'm half 
inclined to think she has suffraget lean- 
ings. 

Mame — Sh! There might be some 
here. I dont want a hatchet bounced 
off my man disturber. Besides, lots of 
the suffragets have children. 



24 



Lita — Not after it takes wel. 

Tony (opening case and taking- out 
mandolin) — Lita, singa Will's lullaby. 

( Lita skips to footlights, huging baby, 
and sings :) 

I Dont Want a Vote. 

A mother of a baby boy, 

My heart is bubbling o'er with joy 

As to my breast I closely press 

His being, with a rare caress ; 

No suffragetic manly craze 

Can lure my soul's enthused amaze 

To even giv a moment's thought 

Away from him my flesh hath wrought. 

Chorus : 

Hush a bye, my darling son, 
While the hours swiftly run. 
Cuddle closely to my breast, 
Baby, dear, in downy nest, 
Sleep, my precious baby, sleep, 
Mother's heart wil vigil keep, 
Naut can harm you, dearest, best, 
While I guard your peaceful rest. 



25 



Great God, to him grant wisdom rare, 
So he'll escape the carping care 
That comes with bitter battling foes 
A-heaping up poor mortal woes, 
Until poor sinners seek the bowls 
That drive to hel poor mortal souls, 
And keep his ways from women's wiles, 
From snares of suffragetic smiles. 

Chorus : 
(Crowd of suffragets jump from 
their seats and swarm onto the stage, 
screaming "Votes for Women," driving 
the perforniers off.) 

Oh, You Brooklyn ! 

( )rator — When I came from Pitts- 
burg the other day and got out of the 
train in that grand dapo uptown and 
strolled thru and onto the street, the 
sights caused me to say: "Wei, some 
excitement !" 

Needing a new suit, I inquired the 
way to a first-class shop and doned a 
real uptothefit cover. 



26 



Then 1 roamed downtown and gazed 
up at some of your sky parlors. 

I didn't note, but I'll gamble my 
mouth was wide open. 

I had expressed my trunk and suit- 
case to my aunt in Brooklyn, so when 
I became surfeited with sight seeing I 
inquired the way to the Brooklyn train. 

The B. R. T. brought me to Brook- 
lyn. 

( Turns and starts to walk off.) 

Man in Audience — Heigh! Come 
back here. 

Orator (turning and coming .slowly 
back) — What's the matter? I hain't 
dun nawthun. 

Man — Where's the parcel. 

( )rator — The parcel ? 

A Tan — Yes — the joke. 

Orator — It's on me. In fact, on 
everyone traveling that way, except 
Brooklynites. If I had it to do over 
again I'll swim or take the ferryboat. 



27 



A Brass Fixture. 

Orator — The next time I feel like 
exercising my muscles I am going- to 
grab the leader of an orchestra, lay him 
out flat on the floor and take a running 
jump right onto his face with my heels. 

Leader of Orchestra — You inhuman 
wretch. 

Or.— How? 

Leader — Do you mean to tel me that 
you would dare to take one of my pro- 
fession, place him in such a humiliating 
position and disable him from providing 
in a proper manner for his wife and 
family? 

Or. — I don't get you. 

Leader (excitedly) — Why, crush in 
his face and spoil — 

Or. — Spoil nothing. They say rubber 
bounces fine off brass. 

The Dairy Disclosure. 

Soubret (very low-cut dress) — Hello; 
are you our angel? 



28 



Angel — Sure ; why ? 

Sou. — You look nice. 

Angel — Say, what kind of a dress do 
you call that? 

Sou. (with giggle) — This? My low- 
cut. 

Angel — Dont you think it's danger- 
ous? 

Sou. — How? 

Angel — Why, unmasking your dairy 
battery so recklessly. 

Oh, no! She Wasnt Uptodate. 

Orator — I tel you, it's great in these 
suffraget times to have a wife like mine. 
She wouldn't wear a low-cut dress or 
a slit skirt. Why? (Swels out his chest 
and looks important.) Because she 
knows X object to such rowdy attire. 

Butler (entering and handing him a 
bil) — Mrs. Orator told me to giv this to 
you sir. (Bows and retires.) 

Orator (opening envelope and read- 
ing) — To one slit skirt for Mrs. Orator, 
$25. (Tears his hair in dismay.) 



29 



A Wiling Victim 

Angel — Oh, you Sukey! 

Soubret (very low cut dress raid slit 
skirt showing leg to knee) — How do 
you do? 

Angel — Charming, in your presence. 

Sou. — Oh, you dear old cut-up! 

Angel — But -I am so afraid you wil 
catch cold. 

Sou. — How? 

Angel — With that awful rent in your 
dress. Why dont you have it sewed up? 
It's a shame to ruin such a lovely gown. 

Sou. — (pertly) — The Four Hundred 
affect this style, so why should I refuse 
to be uptodate? 

So, Angel, dear, dont think I'm bold, 
Nor do I think I'll catch a cold. 

# 

Angel — Oh, you poetess ! 

Sou. (roguishly) — If you fear for my 
welfare, a good, hot dinner wil drive 
away any cold flirting around. 

Angel (grabing her arm with mock 
e x i r e s s i o n of d i sin ay ) — Stung! 

Sou. — It's sweet of vou to tel me. 



30 




/J^J^Y \£yptscfi\, 




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